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Spencer got up from his seat at the same time I did. I snatched his bag off the table before he could grab it and shouldered it with mine. Grabbing his hand in mine, I linked our fingers together and led him out of the library. “I’ll have your car towed to my house,” I told him.
“Towed?” Spencer asked incredulously as I tugged him toward my BMW. “You can just bring me back to school?—”
I nodded. “Towed, baby. My parents won’t even notice the charge on my credit card.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “You’re spoiled.”
I forced a smile to my lips, not wanting him to know that his words had accidentally cut me.
Not spoiled in the way I wanted to be.
* * *
The neighborhood Logan lived in sent chills down my spine. I only knew of this place because it was part of the city I lived in, but I’d never ventured over here. And for good reason. I was not made for this part of town. Everything about me screamed money and wealth and a good upbringing.
It made sense now why Logan was all hard edges, bluntness, and rude personality. He had to be to live here. Yards were overgrown. The sidewalk was cracked and even missing in some parts. Shattered glass lined the side of the road, and beer cans littered yards. Old furniture had been piled up on the sidewalks, and many homes had busted out and boarded up windows.
“He lives here?” Spencer asked quietly.
I nodded, eyeing the driveways we passed for his car. None of the houses had garages, so thankfully I didn’t have to worry about it being hidden away somewhere.
Finally, I spotted his car up ahead, and I pulled in behind it before angling out of the car. “Wait on me,” I told Spencer. He sat in the passenger seat until I rounded the car and opened his door. Once he was standing beside me, I grabbed his hand in mine and shut the door before leading him to the porch. One side of it was sagging, so I watched my steps carefully so I wouldn’t fall through a rotted spot.
The front door swung open before I could knock since there wasn’t a doorbell, and Logan glared out at us. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of black sweats. Black socks were on his feet, and he had them shoved into a pair of plain black slides. He looked like he’d barely been out of bed, his hair all mussed.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?” he growled as he stepped out of the shadows of the front door.
That was when I saw his busted lip and bruised jaw. My jaw tightened, and my hold on Spencer’s hand tightened.
“Logan, what the fuck happened?” I growled. Protective urges swarmed inside of me. I raised my free hand to cup his jaw and turn his head so I could see his face better.
He frowned at me, jerking his jaw out of my grasp. “Life happened, Ezra, but I guess you wouldn’t understand that kind of shit.”
I clenched my jaw. I knew he was lashing out to hide whatever happened to him, but fuck, I wanted to rise to the challenge—just like old times.
Something we both promised Spencer we wouldn’t do.
“Don’t be a dick,” Spencer snapped at Logan. “He was worried about you when I told him you didn’t feel good. Why did you lie to me?”
“Why would I just come out and say some dick busted my lip and fucked up my jaw?” Logan bit back at him.
“Watch your tone,” I quietly warned him. Spencer hadn’t done a goddamn thing to deserve his hostility. “Grab a jacket. You’re coming with us.”
Logan sneered at me. “Fuck you, Ezra.”
I smirked at him. “Trust me, baby, that offer stands, but we’re not fucking here.”
He licked his lips, the cut on his lip reopening, and his pupils expanded the slightest bit. Blood trickled down his chin, and I gently swiped it away with my thumb before popping it in my mouth. His eyes darkened a shade before he nodded. “Wait for me in your car,” he ordered. Then, he stepped back inside and shut the door.
“Come on,” I told Spence, tugging him back down the porch. Once we were both in the car, I leaned my head back against the headrest, blowing out a soft breath.
The image of Logan’s busted-up face would haunt my memories. I just knew it. And my fucking heart ached for him.
What the hell was he going through? And why was he being a dick about it instead of asking for help?
I opened my eyes when the back door opened. Logan slid onto the seat and slammed the door shut. “Can I smoke?” he asked.
I rolled the back windows down in answer. Normally, I’d say hell no, but he looked like he could use one. He was in a dark headspace. I didn’t support smoking at fucking all, but now wasn’t the time for that fight.
